Help Wanted

The assignment was dumb in the first place. Police reports had accused Catwoman of kidnapping someone. Even at her most criminal, she had no interest in ransoms. Besides which, the man was an average citizen, just some guy with no vast fortune to pay for his release. The whole thing was clearly bunk.

But the guy had gone missing and someone in a catsuit had been caught on camera, so it was enough for Bruce to put her on it. A sign he didn't trust her, throwing her this nonsense assignment, a snipe hunt, a wild goose chase...

Barbara hit the pavement, checking her usual bugs and wiretaps, as well as dropping in on a few stooges, but no one had heard anything about Catwoman planning a job, and Selina's usual hideouts and contacts were all dried up. But Barbara kept at it.

The break came, of all places, from one of a few fetishistic meta-watcher websites she monitored. People who got off on catching a sighting of Batman or Superman. There was a recent post mentioning Catwoman in Old Gotham. Barbara went to check it out. It wasn't Selina's usual stalking ground, but she quickly narrowed down the possibilities of where a wanted felon and potential hostage-taker would go to ground.

Arlington Hotel, between owners and momentarily condemned due to a fire, but habitable and the lights still worked. Was it possible Selina would pull some sort of target-of-opportunity job just because she could use this as a hideout?

Batgirl checked it out. She was scanning it with her binoculars when she caught a glimpse of something swinging from a de-cel cord, coming down smoothly on the rooftop. Batgirl zoomed in, just quick enough to catch a glimpse of a female form in motion before she'd disappeared behind the parapets that Barbara's vantage point denied her a perspective on.

The glimpse she'd gotten had been... tantalizing. This woman wore black vinyl, but tighter and thinner than Catwoman's armored costume had ever been. It flowed and caressed the ample curves of an athletic, voluptuous body, showing off every inch of an impossibly magnificent physique. Her zipper was undone to her waist, unleashing a blatant expanse of flesh, including two mountains of cleavage that Selina couldn't possibly have unless she'd seen a plastic surgeon. And from the way they jiggled, seeming totally unencumbered in the suit but stopping just short of revealing more of themselves than was on display already, it would have to be a very good plastic surgeon.

Batgirl fired off a grappling line and was quick to pull herself up to the roof. Luckily, it had been raining recently. When the woman went down the roof access stairs, she left footprints.

When that wore out, Barbara traced her by the smell of ozone, the traces of her light steps on the carpeting. She followed her to a penthouse suite.

The room was dark when Batgirl entered it, but her cowl goggles made it as clear as swimming a few feet underwater in a green ocean. Until something arced out of the darkness, hitting her cowl and shorting out the nightvision. Barbara threw herself backward, back into the hallway. She retracted the lenses from her mask's eyeholes and reached up to the armor plating that held her computerized gear. What she pulled out was halfway between a shuriken and a cat's claw. Selina was definitely playing rougher than usual. If it was her.

Barbara threw herself against the doorframe, reaching in and slapping the light switch on. Light spilled out into the dark hallway, casting a dim, irregular patch across the floor. Seeing that made the gloominess seem surprisingly unrelieved. Barbara's stomach gripped tensely and her mouth grew very dry. Despite herself, she found the darkness disconcerting and sinister.

"Shut off the light," came a voice, soft and sensual, from inside the room. It was not Selina's.

"What have you done with Peter Parker?" Barbara demanded, as gruffly as possible.

"Turn off the light and I'll tell you. Or are you afraid of the dark?"

Barbara thought it over. She was Batgirl. The night was supposed to be her ally. She couldn't cling to the light like a scared child. And, if this other Catwoman had nightvision goggles, she could use the request to her advantage.

"You've got it," Barbara said, and threw the switch again, plunging the room into darkness. At the same time, she dashed inside, throwing herself behind a sofa. "Now where is he?"

"Somewhere safe and sound," the woman laughed gently. "Thank you for turning the lights off. This is one thing we don't need to see to enjoy."

Barbara's breathing was shallow and rapid. "You said you would tell me what you did to him."

"How about a surprise instead?"

"Who are you?" Barbara demanded, desperate to steer the conversation her way.

"Not the one cowering behind a sofa, I'll tell you that much. Oh, well, I suppose there's no harm in telling you. My name's Felicia Hardy."

Barbara's palms were sweating and more wetness was dripping down her back, making her costume stick to her. "Hate to tell you this, Felicia, but someone came to the party dressed in the same outfit as you."

"Yes, well, I won't be here long. Just stopped by to pick something up."

"Peter Parker? Why?"

"I need a hot date for Friday night. Come on over. Don't you want your surprise?"

Barbara felt faintly dizzy, disoriented. Something about this woman's voice was so confident, masterful—no more cocky than Selina, but her unfamiliarity made her more disconcerting than Catwoman. And the way she spoke, the words she used, so sultry and loving, made Barbara sympathize with Bruce. This was the way Selina talked to him. Only to him...

Felicia moaned.

The sound stabbed into Barbara as if it were a knife, piercing her most secret thoughts. A spasm of raw sexual energy surged through her body, almost immobilizing her. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to calm her shaken nerves. Slowly, slowly, she reopened her eyes, fluttering her lashes several times as she blinked. For a moment she peaked out, staring into the darkness, trying to see Felicia on the bed. Her heart clutched as she thought she could make out a shape, a silhouette that was blacker than the darkness, but pale gray in the middle—those bountiful breasts again, and their white fur trim. But then she couldn't be sure. An instant later she did see something—a point of light, flickering feebly, stationary, and then moving.

"Are you smoking?" Barbara asked.

"Among other things. Can you smell it?"

Listening closely, Barbara thought she could hear a sound—sticky, wet, the sound of movement, of flesh pressing into flesh.

"I can see the ash," Barbara answered.

The cigarette tip moved again, then stopped, about where Barbara imagined Felicia's mouth to be. For a single, flickering moment the ember glowed brighter, casting out a flat, dull light, like a smudge of pale illumination spreading across the pitch-black room. With a spectral mistiness, the delicate softness of the other woman's face appeared briefly, aid then was gone.

Felicia exhaled. Then she moaned again, a little louder, with somewhat more breathless passion than before. There was no doubt in Barbara's mind what was happening.

"Are you touching yourself?"

"I'm enjoying myself," Felicia replied.

Barbara tried to remember her face, as she'd seen it on the rooftop. There were only the most general characteristics. Long platinum hair, shockingly warm eyes of green, pale milk-colored complexion, so delicate it seemed translucent. The stunning loveliness of her features, and the firm, supple fullness of her body remained only as an impression at the edges of her thoughts, as a mood, a feeling, as the stirring it had evoked in her loins. She tried to imagine that face twisting into pleasure, that body naked...

A flush of shame, of pure lust, made Barbara's cheeks hot, and she found herself thankful for the darkness.

"Follow the sound of my voice," Felicia urged, her fingers moving, stroking. Intuitively she could sense the conflict tearing at Barbara, and she knew she needed to be coaxed and reassured. She smiled, and then consciously tried to put that smile into the tone of her voice. "I'm sitting on the bed."

"I'm coming."

Barbara moved toward the bed, guided by Felicia's soft sighs. The thick pile of the rug made her booted approach perfectly silent. Only her cape rustled, lightly, coolly against her thighs, shooting shivers of forbidden delight up through her flesh, stabbing into her cunt. The crotch of her panties was soaked through, and wetness leaked down the insides of her legs.

It's really happening, she thought, shaking her head numbly. My God. It's finally going to happen!

"Ah," said Felicia, "there you are."

"You can see me?" Barbara peered into the curtain of night stretched before her, her eyelids squinted almost shut as she strained to see.

"Oh, yes. A cat's eyes are best in the dark." She laughed. "Come straight ahead, Barbara. I want to give you your surprise."

Barbara shuddered. She'd guessed what it was.

And then she could see Felicia, and she stopped dead in her tracks, more stunned than surprised. Obviously, she'd only guessed half her surprise. Indeed, Felicia was masturbating; but she was also stark naked.

Barbara watched her touch herself. Felicia was leaning against the headboard, her cigarette burning in the ashtray. Her breasts were firm and magnificently shaped, with long brown nipples located at the center of perfectly round aureoles. In contrast to her flat, pinched stomach, her hips and ass were full and rounded. Her thighs were spread wide apart, and she was rubbing her silvery-haired pussy, two fingers buried in her slit as she fingered herself. She was smiling.

"Surprise."

***

Gwen Stacy clung to the wall outside the apartment. She couldn't see anyone else, couldn't hear anything, but she could guess that Felicia was talking to herself. Sputtering the same filthy limericks she used to seduce most of her targets. So she got off on them herself. It didn't surprise Gwen.

She'd been surprised when Madame Web had informed her of a Felicia Hardy traveling between dimensions, coming to an alternate universe whose brand of heroes was far different from any that either of them had ever known. Why would any Felicia want with another universe? The one in Gwen's dimension, dating her Peter Parker, would find it cheating to slip off to another universe to steal something. Like forging a copy instead of swiping it honestly.

But, hers was not to reason why. Hers was just to catch up to Felicia-1137 or whatever and drag her back to her proper dimension, clearing up the favor she owed to Web. And she was just about to burst through the window and go all Spider-Gwen on Felicia when she saw the object Felicia picked up.

She recognized the object in Felicia's hand. She had one just like it at home. Then Gwen clamped one hand tightly to her mouth. She had to be careful not to make any noise. Even if she couldn't hear Felicia, that didn't mean Felicia couldn't hear her.

She had to admit, she was fascinated by the sexy cat burglar. At first she had been horrified by her lewd thoughts, always centering on Felicia's lush body and the candid looks she got on her eye. But as the hunt continued, the feelings had become so strong that she couldn't ignore them any longer. Now, having finally caught up to Felicia, only to be confronted with the most blatant display of what she herself desired, she just had to see for herself. See everything.

Gwen watched with fascination as Felicia opened a bottle of lotion. She could see the creamy pink lotion seeping down into Felicia's cunt and running down to her tiny, puckered asshole.

Gwen gasped in excitement. Her hand dropped to her own flooding cunt and palmed the slick, hot labia. She let out another anguished moan as Felicia guided the head of the vibrator into the mouth of her pussy. Felicia gave a thrust that wedged the plastic cock right up inside her cunt, almost burying it in her needy sex. Gwen trembled, just watching the scene in front of her.

Felicia threw her head back and rammed her pussy again and again. Gwen could see the juices boil up and froth around the edges of the slim vibrator as Felicia jammed it again and again into her glistening hot cunt. Gwen's hand moved caressingly on her own pussy as she sensed Felicia's excitement intensify.

Felicia's head was hanging to one side and her eyes were glazed with passion. Her little pink tongue licked her lips eagerly and Gwen almost came right then, as she thought of that very same tongue lapping at her pussy. Felicia was using one hand to tweak and pinch her long, pink nipples. The other hand was ramming the vibrator into her flooding pussy. Gwen could see the long plastic prick hover for a moment on the very brink of Felicia's hole and then surge forward as she slammed it home, again and again.

Gwen was panting just as hard as Felicia was.

Their tits heaved in perfect rhythm as they both thrilled to their separate delights. Gwen shuddered and her fingers moved even faster. She rubbed the hard little nub of her clit with her flat palm. She could feel her pussy twitch and throb. She was aching to come, but she forced herself to wait, pacing her excitement to Felicia's. It was agonizing, but she wanted to climax at the exact instant Felicia did. She could hear Felicia groan and squeal softly. Her creamy juices gushed forth from her honeyed pink. She rolled her head wildly from side to side as she gripped the whirring vibrator tightly in her snug, hot pussy.

Felicia battered and assaulted her open pussy. Her wet, burning snatch was stretched open by the whirring plastic vibrator. Gwen knew that she could have shouted and thrown rocks against the window and Felicia wouldn't have even blinked. The Black Cat was completely intent on getting herself off!

Felicia's legs tensed suddenly, and then trembled like leaves in a storm. She plunged the vibrator fiercely in the fiery depths of her body. She rammed it home so hard that it sank completely out of sight in her throbbing, grasping cunt. Spasm after spasm of pleasure shot through her body as the hard plastic vibrator sank out of sight inside her.

Felicia squealed shrilly and her face contorted with pleasure. The vibrator whirred away softly as she began to come, twisting and writhing in ecstasy.

Gwen sank three fingers into her pussy and felt her own climax rip through her tortured body. Her gasps of joy filled the warm fall air. Next time, she was going to be right there beside Felicia's lovely, lush body, giving her much more pleasure than that silly plastic vibrator ever could. She would show Felicia how her hot, smooth tongue could lick and slurp her little hard clit and dip into her steamy hot cunt. She would show Felicia that no one could get her off better than the amazing Spider-Woman.

Her fantasies were interrupted as a bolo flew from outside her range of vision, capturing Felicia's arms against her body so that the vibrator fell from her hand, landed on the bed, and rolled down onto the floor with a helpless, defeated trill.

All of a sudden, Gwen remembered where she was and what she was doing.

***

"That's enough of that!" Barbara declared, struggling to control her breathing. She couldn't believe she'd let Felicia masturbate to completion in front of her, watching the whole time, but Felicia's orgasm—her very clearly obviously real orgasm—had been prompt enough for her to get off her ass and apprehend the criminal. If anyone asked, she'd just say she was exercising compassion. No one liked to be interrupted in the middle of business, after all.

"Mmmm, shame," Felicia said. "And you're a redhead too. I like redheads."

"You're coming with me," Barbara said, pressing on despite belatedly realizing what she'd said. "Maybe after you sweat a little, you'll be more forthcoming about Peter Parker's whereabouts."

Felicia grinned. "Aren't you going to search me for clues? Who knows what I have on me-or in me?"

Gwen came in through the window, firing a webline into Barbara. She held onto it tightly, momentarily jerking Barbara off-balance. "Hold it! One bad thought and I'll see how you look on the ceiling! I don't know what kinky game you're playing with Arena Rock here, but I'm taking her home."

Barbara drew a Batarang from her utility belt, smoothly severing the webbing. "Keep that weird stuff off of me! And she's going to jail for kidnapping, so you can just practice your jealous girlfriend routine with someone else."

"Jealous girlfriend!?"

"'Kinky game'?" Barbara retorted.

"Ladies," Felicia said, "ladies." She shrugged off the bolo with a little shimmy of her body. "There's no reason to fight over me. You were both enjoying the show, weren't you? Why don't we pick up where we left off—with a little help from the audience?"

Barbara glanced at Gwen. Gwen glanced back at her. They were smart people—quick to realize the other was a fellow vigilante and not Felicia's ally. Which made them each embarrassingly aware of their own arousal, wondering what the other must be thinking of how clearly turned on she was by Felicia's sordid display.

"I wasn't—" Barbara began hurriedly.

"I would never!" Gwen continued.

Barbara was so aghast, her protests aimed at Gwen, that she didn't even notice the sneak thief coming up beside her, sliding her hand beneath her utility belt, finding the soft, pantied mound of her sex.

"You wouldn't," Felicia smiled, "but this would. Feels so wet. Did you play with it on the way over or is it just like that?"

"You bitch!" Barbara gurgled.

"If I'm the bitch, why are you spreading your legs to me?" Felicia turned her gaze to Gwen. "She really is wet. Feel."

Gwen helplessly stepped closer, holding her dewy lips up, shivering. With her left hand, Felicia tugged Gwen's mask up her face. Gwen moaned in distress as it crested her nose, but then Felicia released it, preserving Gwen's identity. She took the opened, eager lips, her left arm now around Gwen's tiny waist, her hand slipping down between Gwen's buttocks. Gwen took Felicia's tongue and hunched her ass into Felicia's touch.

"I can't believe it..." Barbara moaned, almost speaking more to herself than them.

Felicia brought her hand up from Barbara's sex, stroking her warm, wet fingers over Barbara's face, into her hair. "Why bother pretending you don't want this? Isn't it obvious the rest of us do? There's no shame in that. We all want it. Me, you, and..."

She pulled Gwen in with her other hand, pressing her body to Barbara's. The two kissed almost helplessly, the contact automatic at first, instinctive, then growing into conscious, deliberate acceptance. Their hands trailing along each other's bodies, their tongues meeting one another, their eyes closing in total acceptance of their feelings.

"Her," Felicia finished, easing the conjoined women to the bed. As soon as their legs touched its mattress, the two women lowered themselves to it, their kiss unbroken. They relaxed into one another's touch as much as they did the bed.

Felicia sat down on the foot of the bed, watching Barbara undress Gwen, Gwen undressing Barbara. I knew they'd eat this up, she thought, twisting to face them, one leg folded and the other falling so they could see her cunt and the tip of her aching clit.

"Aren't you going to join in?" Gwen asked. She let her soft, pretty thighs spread invitingly before Felicia's gaze. Her dark, tempting nipples were stiffening.

Barbara squirmed lazily, combing her fingers through her long, sexy mane. Even if she couldn't quite say so, it was clear she was thinking the same thing.

"Oh, I will," Felicia smiled. "Why don't you two have a little fun first? I'd hate to dominate the proceedings first thing..."